Tomorrow
by Elske
Summary: An autumn holiday, Percy goes on a journey to visit Oliver. Loosely based on the poem "Demain, des l'aube" by Victor Hugo. Written for the Oliver/Percy improv list.


Title: Tomorrow  
Author: Elske  
Status: (1/1), completed  
Category: Romance, drama  
Spoilers: None, from either the books or my series of fics, this one is an alternate universe fic (gasp!)  
Rating: PG-13  
Content Warnings: umm...well, if I warn you, it'll spoil everything. It's like "The Sixth Sense" or something like that...so read on at your own caution, okay?  
Summary: An autumn holiday, Percy goes on a visit to Oliver. Loosely based on the poem "Demain, des l'aube" by Victor Hugo.  
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, they belong to JKRowling. I'm not pretending that they're mine, I don't want them to be mine, please don't sue me. Incidentally, the plot isn't really mine either, a large chunk of it belongs to Victor Hugo. *sheepish smile*  
Spoilers: Nothing for the books...and nothing for my series of stories either, since this is an alternate universe fic  
Note the first: As I said in the disclaimer, this fic was inspired by the poem "Demain des l'aube" by Victor Hugo. I was supposed to write an essay about a poem by Baudelaire...I sat down and this fic happened instead. Thus I place a large portion of the blame for this story on my French teacher, for being the one making us read and analyze 19th Century French Poetry in the first place.   
Note the second: As I have also stated before, this is an alternate-universe fic, and has nothing to do with my series of Percy/Oliver & Penelope/Ron fics. Alternative-universe, got it?  
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Percy spent the entire day in the Ministry office, arranging and rearranging papers, filing and un-filing, moving things around and then putting them back. Every so often he would sneak a glance at the clock, dismayed that hardly any time had passed at all since he had looked at it last.  
  
Finally, finally, the hour came when he could leave. He sat up straighter than he had all day, as though relieved of an invisible burden. He could leave. He triumphantly crossed the room and took down his woolen jacket, clumsy fingers doing up the flat buttons. He wound his scarf around his neck...his scarf, the same one he wore in his school-days, yellow and red striped, Gryffindor colors that suited him. He smiled to himself, a small smile, as he reached for his wand and pulled it from his pocket and Apparated away from the office, trembling a bit with enthusiasm. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he was visiting Oliver.  
  
Percy awoke early in the morning, in order to start out early on his journey, filled with exquisite anticipation. He dressed in his finest set of robes and a long black woolen coat, wrapped his red and gold Gryffindor scarf securely around his neck three times and let the ends flutter in the autumnal breeze.  
  
It was unusually cold for autumn, but Percy didn't mind. In fact, he scarcely noticed. He didn't notice much of anything at all. He didn't notice the neat lines his coat made drifting behind him or the soft scuffing sounds his shoes made with every step he took or the mist his every breath created in the early morning air. He was visiting Oliver.  
  
He didn't notice the sunrise paint the sky in shades of pink and purple. He didn't notice the bright oranges and golds and yellows of the autumn leaves, dying in a show of glory. Percy didn't notice anything, oh, no. He was visiting Oliver.  
  
Percy walked, his eyes fixed on his thoughts, on his memories. He walked in a haze, an almost-madness; a rapture of rememberings and longings. He saw nothing as he journeyed, paid no attention as the day passed into night. He didn't notice the setting sun or the lights fading in store windows. Percy was visiting Oliver. He didn't notice the lit-up houses, didn't notice the family that was once almost his family gathering around the table, having a feast, didn't notice the sad eyes following him from the window.  
  
And finally, he arrived. He arrived. Percy arrived and, with a small smile on his face,   
reached into his pocket, whispered a spell. And then he stepped forward and gently, reverently, placed the candle on Oliver's grave.  
  
Remembrance day. 


End file.
